


Belief/Deception

by havsgast



Series: Whump·Tober [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Brother-obsessed Remus, King Creativity fusion, M/M, Mentally unstable Remus, Queerplatonic kingceit, aroflux king
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2020-11-09 10:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 11,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20851985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havsgast/pseuds/havsgast
Summary: A collection of drabbles that fit into my Belief!Dee AU, and that use the WhumpTober prompts.If you haven't heard of the Belief!Dee AU before, these are the important things to know:Morality split Creativity into two, Anxiety used to be Caution, and the light sides don't remember Belief. Anxiety remembers but doesn't know that Belief is still there, under a different name. Creativity loved Belief before the split, and for one of them, Deceit is family. For the other, it's confusing.You can check the tag on my tumblr or send me an ask if you want to know more!





	1. Explosion

**Author's Note:**

> Tags will be added as more chapters are posted. Any warnings will be in the summary for each chapter.

Belief takes one last look around his room. He has already made sure that Patton, Logan, and Roman will forget him once his room disappears. It would perhaps be easier to just move it, but he wants a completely fresh start. No more Belief, no more soft sweaters, no more debates with Logan, no more acting with Roman, but also no more scolding from Morality, no more worrying over what happened to the other Creativity, no more questioning his purpose.

When his room disappears, so will all the warmth and comfort of belief. The truth has never been of value to him, and if he needs to be cold and harsh to hide it from Thomas, then he will. Self-preservation has always been his main priority, although the others have never acknowledged that aspect of him. Belief is too… innocent of a name, and the world isn’t innocent.

He takes one last breath as Belief, and with it, his room disappears, his shape unravels until he’s just an idea floating in Thomas’ mind. He is nameless, unknown. If he stays like this for too long, the subconscious will claim him and his responsibilities will fall onto the others. Maybe they would deserve it for not understanding, for not appreciating him, for accusing him of wanting Thomas to be hurt. It’s tempting, but then the other Creativity would stay forgotten, and he doesn’t want that, refuses to risk that.

He can’t take a breath in this form, but he concentrates and his shape explodes. Creating a body is painful, while unravelling had been so easy, too easy. He feels like he’s nothing but blisters; like he’s exploding due to too much matter, the same way a star would. His body burns and burns and burns until everything stops, and he’s left naked and freezing.

It would have been so easy to conjure a sweater, but it would be too soft. He can no longer look soft, be soft. Instead, he conjures something that Logic might wear - a black button-up with long sleeves and yellow lines over the seams. He pairs it with a pair of yellow jeans and black boots. A new aesthetic can come later - when he has a room and a name. When he isn’t just standing in a hallway that mirrors the home he had just left, except it’s darker, colder, dirtier. There are cobwebs in the corners and layers of dust over every surface. His fingers twitch with the need to clean, and he will, but it has to wait.

The door closest to him opens with a nudge of his foot. He hadn’t wanted to touch the handle on account of how dirty it was, but at least that meant that the room was likely empty. He’s proven horribly wrong.

Sitting in the middle of the room, surrounded by things he can’t begin to identify, sits the Creativity that he had done all this for. He feels tears falling down his cheeks as he takes in the scene. Oh, how could he let this happen… how could _they_ have let this happen? Anger fills him at the thought of Morality splitting his friend and then sending one half away without remorse. It quickly dies out as he takes a step into the room. Creativity doesn’t react, just continues making a noise that slowly raises in pitch. It hurts him to see Creativity like this, and it hurts more when he thinks of how happy and loved Roman is.

He wants to push the truth of what Morality had done into their faces. He wants them to face the truth, just as it is. No misrepresenting or concealing, and no lies. He would be the one in control of the truth from now on, he would be the one pulling the strings to stop anything like this from ever happening again.

He would be Deceit.


	2. Human Shield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one is unsympathetic on purpose, but they may be read that way. The warning is primarily for Logan and Roman.

They had been trying to help Thomas with a dilemma when it happened. Remus had shown up uninvited, but he had done nothing but occasionally throw things at Logan, who simply rolled with it; unaffected by any harm, easily waving away the injuries as if they were nothing. Roman thought it was going fairly well, everything considered. Even if his brother’s tentacles were hugging him tightly, as Remus casually invaded his space. It was better than being hit with Remus’ morningstar, and he didn’t want to upset his brother by bringing it up. God knew what would happen if Remus got upset… and maybe he didn’t mind his brother hugging him as much as he thought he would.

Remus had just thrown a spring-loaded triple dagger at Logan, and Roman assumed the logical side would simply let it hit, as all the things before. It was not of any bigger danger than the earlier missiles of things. What neither he nor Remus had expected was for Logan to have reached his limit, from constantly being Remus’ target as well as trying to get heard over Patton and Roman. It felt as everything had started to move in slow-motion; Roman could only watch as Logan caught the handle and threw the dagger back in what was a truly impressive manoeuvre. Only, Roman was next to Remus, and Logan’s aim was off.

He had stared death in the eye lots of time in the imagination, and he knew he couldn’t technically die from physical harm, but that didn’t stop him from being frozen in fear as the dagger flew towards his face. His poor, beautiful face. Hadn’t it been bad enough when Logan injured his eye with a ball of paper? Sure, he had arguably deserved that, and he should have tried to make sure that Logan was part of the conversation, but a dagger was a bit too much. Even if it was likely meant for Remus, not him.

Except… the dagger never hit.

Roman feels himself being pushed aside, and then he’s not just Roman anymore. More like… Roman and Remus? As one? But not separate, no, they’re one and the same...He feels like he used to, back before. Before what? He knows but he doesn’t.

He regains his balance and looks around the room. Thomas, Morality, Logic. Caution - no, not longer Caution but now Anxiety - had been there earlier but had left. There was someone else missing, someone important, part of him thinks. He doesn’t know what part that is.

Then he breaks apart, unable to stay together for so long.

Roman lands on the floor, Remus next to him. They’re both dazed by what had just happened, but Remus seems to be actually shaken by it. He doesn’t think he has ever seen his brother like that. Roman wants to ask, but he barely has time to open his mouth before Remus has disappeared. The only sign that he was there is the dagger that lies on the floor. Roman stares at it, trying to puzzle together what had just happened.

The dagger had been heading for him, but Remus had pushed him aside, acting as a human shield… and then they had what? Become one? Fused? It had felt right yet wrong like they once had fit together perfectly but had grown since.

“We were King… weren’t we?”

He doesn’t get an answer.


	3. Isolation

Few where the times that Roman would lock the door to his room, refusing entry to the others. He had yet to open up about the insecurities that weighed him down, but he had started to seek out company instead of wallowing in his thoughts when said insecurities got too much. Yet today he felt as if he desperately needed to be alone. There was a lot to process, and while being able to talk it out with someone could help, he didn’t want to. Not with this subject. It was far too private, something that should stay between him and Remus.

He could have asked his brother to join him, but he doubted that any discussion they had would actually lead to something. If anything, he was scared that Remus would harm him if they were in the same room at the moment. They had barely been King for a minute, but their minds had been one. Their memories had merged. In the future, that might bring him and Remus closer, but not now. Definitely not now, after having one and a half decades worth of memories forcibly shared by a fusion they hadn’t expected, hadn’t believed possible. Roman feels as if someone invaded his mind, had stolen his most private thoughts. He could only try to imagine what simile or metaphor Remus would use to describe the sensation.

An involuntary shudder ran through him as flashes of what had happened after their split played through his mind. Roman had still had Patton, and Logan, and… and who? The name was just on the tip of his tongue, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember it. It felt important, but it would have to wait. The point he had been trying to make was that he hadn’t been alone, but Remus had been sent away. Remus had been abandoned, alone, and heartbroken. Remus had lived in isolation for years and would have still been isolated if not for Deceit. He wondered where Deceit had come from, although that wasn’t important. There was a feeling as if he knew the answer, but that couldn’t be possible.

Something wet touched his collarbone, bringing him out of his thoughts. Confused, he felt his cheek with the tips of his fingers. Tears. He was crying. Roman was spilling tears as he thought about what Remus had gone through, what they had made his _brother_, his _other half_ go through. He mourned for the years they had lost and regretted the part that he had played in it all. Remus had likely already forgiven him, but Roman wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to forgive himself. Not now, when he truly knew what life had been like for Remus, could guess why his brother behaved the way he did. Years of abandonment and isolation would do that.

Roman’s door stayed locked for the rest of the day. He couldn’t bring himself to face the others, especially not Patton and Logan. They had played just as a big part in the split of good and bad as he had - especially Patton, who was the reason he and Remus were separate. He wondered if Remus had forgiven them, or ever would.


	4. Shackled

It takes a long time for him to convince himself that interfering will be the best for Thomas. He goes as far as impersonating Patton since if Virgil saw him he wouldn’t even get a chance to say anything. It hurts that someone he considers family doesn’t even see him as a friend, but Deceit has always been good at ignoring his own feelings. So him impersonating Patton made him a villain? Okay, then he would play the villain. He’ll be dramatic and over the top, going so far as roping them all into a mock trial the next time that he shows up. It’s going good, he thinks, with Thomas realising that he can be selfish. With Roman agreeing with him, Thomas should even act on those selfish desires and go to the callback. Deceit doesn’t want to bring his hopes up, but Roman is one half of King, and they had been friends before. When Roman then rules in Patton’s favour, Deceit returns to his and Remus’ home feeling crushed.

He vents his frustrations to Remus; it’s exhausting to be Deceit, to be seen as a villain and being ignored. There are figurative shackles keeping him from being listened to, and worse is that he knows that he has the keys. He put these shackles on himself, and he will remain shackled if he has a choice. If the others knew who he used to be… how soft he once had been… if he gave them the key to the truth… maybe they would accept him. Maybe they would listen to him. But would they accept Remus? Would they listen to him as he was now, or just to who he used to be?

Remus makes himself known. Deceit doesn’t hear about it beforehand, and he spends an hour being worried out of his mind because he can’t find Remus anywhere. When his only remaining family member comes back, Deceit hugs him with all six arms and listens patiently as Remus excitedly retells his interaction with Thomas and the others. He’s just happy that Remus is okay. He hadn’t counted on Remus continuing to spend time with the others. He should have, he knew how Remus both wanted Roman’s love and validation, and wanted to kill him and replace him. Knew that Remus missed Virgil, and had fun with Logan.

Then Remus comes back one day, quiet and pale, and unwilling to talk. Deceit spends days by his side, rubbing his back, running fingers through his hair, coaxing him to eat. It breaks his heart to see Remus like this, after all the progress that he had made. He wants to ask, but he doesn’t. Remus would tell him when he was ready, and Deceit would always be there for him.

That’s why that Deceit comes with the next time that Remus decides to show up when the others are with Thomas. He only plans to hang back and watch, but then Logan suggests that Roman and Remus fuse so that they can give another view of the problem. Deceit feels his heart stop - fuse? They can fuse? How does Logan know that they can fuse? His eyes meet Virgil’s for a second, both of them feeling different kinds of panic.

Deceit can only watch as Remus and Roman becomes King. Can only wait as King’s gaze lands on him, and his whole face lights up.

“_Belief_,” King breathes out and crosses the floor to embrace him. With that simple word, his shackles are unlocked, waiting to fall to the ground.

“Virgil,” Patton quietly questions in the background. “Who is Belief?”


	5. Stitches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are references to past unsympathetic Virgil.

_Who is Belief?_ Patton’s question feels like a ping pong ball bouncing around in his skull. Virgil wants to scream, wants to cry, want to run over to Deceit and beg for forgiveness, beg for them to give being a family a second try. He doesn’t want to explain the mistake he made of never giving Deceit a chance when Deceit had treated Anxiety just the same that Belief had treated Caution - if not _better_.

“Virgil?” It’s Logan’s voice now, and he realises that he must have been zoning out. His eyes feel wet when he blinks to get the world back into focus. He glances between Patton and Logan, who are almost crowding him into the staircase. Behind them, Thomas is watching what takes place between King and Deceit. Virgil can’t even begin to sort out the emotions on Thomas’ face, but he understands when he allows himself to look at the way King gently cradles Deceit’s face; takes in the red flush on Deceit’s face and the way he’s not meeting King’s gaze. There’s something soft in the mumbled words they exchange, and Virgil feels like he might be sick.

“Belief was Creativity’s best friend,” he starts, the words awkward on his tongue. He can’t meet Patton or Logan’s gaze, choosing instead to let his eyes rest on the reunion that is taking place. His fingers run over the fabric of his hoodie, and he latches on to the feeling of the stitches where the plaid meets black. “Belief was wanting to find a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and having dad check for monsters under the bed. Belief was writing letters to Santa Claus and not stepping on cracks in the sidewalk because of a rhyme.”

“But King called Deceit for Belief.” Logan is just stating a fact, but Virgil still feels as if someone is crushing his heart in his chest.

“Belief changed,” he continues. King has let go of Deceit’s cheeks in favour of kissing his hands, and Deceit looks happier than Virgil has ever seen him before. The image of Belief flicks in over Deceit, and it matches perfectly. The softness, the warmth… It’s still there, under the cold, hard facade. “Belief could only repeat what information Thomas was fed from media and adults. Belief was the thoughts of being wrong, and the internalised homophobia. Belief held the ugly truth of society and started to spin it into pretty lies; all for Thomas’ happiness.”

“Kiddo, that sounds an awful lot like…” Patton trails off, but the way he glances towards Deceit made it obvious who he is thinking about.

“It sounds like Deceit, yes.” Logan agrees. Virgil picks on one of the stitches on his hoodie, nails digging in underneath the thread. They already know, they don’t need him to tell them-

“But wouldn't we remember that?” Patton asks.

“He didn’t want you to know the truth.” Virgil answers. It comes out as a whisper. His eyes meet Deceit’s; the other must have felt him staring. Virgil averts his eyes and stops picking at his hoodie to instead wrap his arms around himself in mockery of a hug. He doesn’t know if he’s jealous or not that the others can’t remember.

If he hadn’t remembered Belief, he would not have been this consumed with guilt over his treatment of Deceit. If he hadn’t remembered Belief, his heart wouldn’t hurt this much. Yet, seeing Deceit and King together… if he hadn’t remembered Belief, he would have ruined their happiness with accusations of manipulation.

He preferred seeing them smile.


	6. "Don't Move"

It had been a few weeks since the physical manifestations of his Creativity and Intrusive Thoughts had first fused. Logan had explained that none of the other sides could fuse and that they hadn't been aware that Roman and Remus were capable of it. He had gone on to mention that Roman and Remus had once been one person; Romulus, King of the Imagination. Much like how Roman sometimes was referred to as Princey, Romulus had been mostly known as King.

The time that had passed had given him time to process the information, but Thomas remained unprepared when it happened again. It was stranger still as it was on purpose this time; he couldn't help but compare it to Steven Universe even though it was nothing alike. But what stood out to him most was the way that King had lit up once his eyes had landed on Deceit. There was history there, and the name that King was using was his only clue - _Belief_.

He could have listened to Virgil's answer, but instead, he chose to remain in his spot and quietly observe the way King showered Deceit in affection. Their soft mumbles were too low for him to make out any words, but they were radiating love. If they weren't literally parts of his mind, Thomas would have looked away to give them privacy. He still felt as if he was intruding. Had they been together? Were they in love? Wouldn't Roman had remembered Deceit if that was the case?

"How long have you been together?" He blurts out the question without thinking and winces at the way Deceit immediately moves to distance himself from King. Thomas doesn't think he'll ever be able to understand Deceit, but he recognizes the way that he tenses up and puts on a mask after having been caught in a moment of weakness.

"Don't move." King takes Deceit's hand in his, fitting their fingers together as he tugs him closer. "I've missed you too much to allow you to distance yourself from me."

"As good with words as ever," Deceit says under his breath, but there is a telling blush on his cheeks. King places a soft kiss against his scaled cheek before turning to look towards Thomas.

"We were too young for the specifics of love when I… ceased to be. Belief means a lot more to me than the others, and I'll admit that I love him, but I don't think that I'm capable of feeling romantic attraction towards anyone. I still greatly enjoy the idea of romance, but I have no active interest in pursuing it for myself at the moment, and I don't always want those feelings reciprocated."

Thomas weighs the explanation over in his mind. It sounded a lot like the aromantic spectrum, most likely fluctuating between different orientations. He doesn't know enough to suggest any specific orientation but…

"What do you know about being aromantic?"

"I know what you, Remus, and Roman knows," King says with a smile that is too wide, too sharp - reminiscent of the way Remus smiles. "So I'm familiar with it, but not as much as I would like."

Thomas nods and reaches for his laptop, which is lying on the couch. The others were still talking, and he didn't know how long King could remain fused, so he thought they could do some research. When he turned back with his laptop in hand, it was to the scene of King down on one knee, cradling both of Deceit's hands in his.

"Belief, mon amour, would you make me the honour of becoming my queerplatonic partner?"

Deceit's answer is interrupted by Patton's excited squeal.


	7. Adrenaline

Understanding a series of events and being able to look at them logically doesn’t lessen the impact of the emotions. Knowing that you’re in a safe environment doesn’t stop you from reacting to the stimuli in a way that might seem exaggerated or unwarranted to others. Virgil knows all this; knows that he can’t help being a physical embodiment of anxiety - of the fight-or-flight reflex. The knowledge doesn’t stop him from lifting the hood up over his face, doesn’t stop him from shrinking in on himself in embarrassment.

He had been lost in thoughts of guilt and regret after he had shared his knowledge of Belief with Patton and Logan. Their words came in through one ear and went out the other without being heard. He could still feel them standing next to him, too close to him, crowding him, but that’s where his awareness of the world ended. He hadn’t expected Patton to suddenly squeal.

Startled by the noise, his fight-or-flight triggered the release of adrenaline into his bloodstream. Virgil could feel his heart in his throat from how fast it was beating. He had vaulted over the railing of the staircase and was now standing on the back of the couch, his back pressed against the wall. Too far from an escape route, but his main concern had been to get away from the source of the noise. Everyone’s eyes on him did nothing to lessen his heightened sense of anxiety. He considers sinking out just to escape when black and yellow enters his field of vision.

“Virgil,” De-_Belie-**Deceit**_ says, his voice comforting. “Can I touch you?”

A gloved hand is offered to him, and Virgil latches onto it immediately with both of his own. There didn’t use to be a layer of fabric in the past, and he swallows the thought that the gloves were a result of him leaving. He plays with Deceit’s fingers, something he has done uncountable times in the past. It grounds him; to be touching another person, to know that he isn’t alone, without feeling crowded. Deceit has always given him the space he needs while simultaneously being there for him.

Deceit uses his other hand to tap out a rhythm against his wrist; where Virgil can see, and feel the vibrations. He keeps his eyes on the tapped out rhythm as he continues to play with Deceit’s fingers. Slowly, he starts to match his breathing to the rhythm of the taps. In, hold, out, in, hold, out. Had the gloves not been there, he would have thought he was back in the past.

Had this been before, Virgil would have snatched his hands back and pushed Deceit away once his anxiety is back to being manageable. Had it been before, he would have made an excuse of wanting to be alone because he didn’t want to spend more time around someone he didn’t trust after having shown himself to be weak. But this wasn’t before, and he can’t do that to Deceit, not again.

“Thanks, Dee.” The two words come out as a mumble, and there is a flash of something in Deceit’s eyes that he can’t identify. Wordlessly, Deceit helps him down from the back of the couch before he retracts his hand. Virgil stuffs his own hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

“This is all wonderful,” King speaks up. Virgil wonders why he’s on one knee on the ground. “But I desire an answer before these two no longer can stay together.”

Deceit rolls his eyes fondly as he turns away from Virgil. He wonders if that fondness could ever be directed at him. He thinks King might have proposed; it would explain why Patton had squealed, and why King was on one knee. He wants to be happy for them if that’s the case, but how would that work with Roman and Remus?

“No, I’d hate to be in any sort of relationship with you,” Deceit says, and his voice drips with enough sarcasm that even Roman would have had to catch on if he were there. “Yes, Romulus. My answer is yes.”

Virgil watches as Deceit presses a kiss to King’s temple and then takes a step back. King unfuses then, leaving behind a blushing Roman and a grinning Remus.


	8. Tear-stained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton's black-and-white thinking may make him seem unsympathetic, but he's not supposed to be.

Patton watches with a confused smile as Remus tackles Deceit and Virgil into a hug. He doesn’t understand why Deceit would have made them forget that he used to be one of them, used to be good. Why would anyone abandon that? And for what? _Remus_? That he’s no longer scared of the green creativity doesn’t mean that he has to like or even accept him; his younger self had had the right idea when he sent Remus away. The things that Remus makes Thomas think of are still bad even if Thomas is too good to act on them. The world was so much easier when you could sort things into good and bad. Deceit kept trying to blur that line and it infuriated him.

It had been so good when Virgil wanted nothing to do with the lying side, but with the reveal, something had changed, and Patton has no idea what because he _can’t remember_. It frustrates him to be left out like this, especially when it concerns the balance of good and bad in Thomas. At least he’s not alone in not knowing; Logan has no memories of the so-called _Belief_ either. Had it only been King that recognized Deceit as such, he would have called it suspicious. He still thinks it’s strange, but Virgil remembers, and Roman… actually, he’s not sure what’s going on with the prince.

Roman has been sitting on the floor since King unfused, his cheeks flushed red and his eyes seemingly stuck on Deceit. The unfortunate group hug has ended, but Remus is clinging to Virgil, and Virgil and Deceit are quietly talking. Thomas is standing with them, probably getting filled in on what’s going on if he were to guess. Patton could interrupt, or continue theorising with Logan… or he could go question Roman. Being fused with Remus for so long couldn’t possibly have done him any good.

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton says as he joins Roman on the floor. “You seem a bit floored by everything that’s going on.”

Roman snorts at the pun. It’s first now that Patton notices the redness lingering in his eyes, and how his cheeks have been stained by tears.

“What happened?” he asks softly, reaching out to wipe away tears that have already dried.

“I don’t know how to explain, padre,” Roman sighs. He hasn’t looked away from Deceit even once. “When we were King… We were a completely new person, with his own memories and emotions. And now I’m Roman, but I have those memories, and Remus’ memories, on top of my own. It’s confusing.”

“What’s confusing?”

“Feelings,” Roman complains, and finally turns away from Deceit to meet his eyes. Patton smiles patiently at him. “King loves him, and Remus loves him, and I don’t know what I feel. When he was just Deceit, it was easy to declare him a dark side, but now I have memories of who he was before, and there’s this feeling like he used to be important to me. Every time I try to remember what it was like after the split, there’s this feeling like I’ve forgotten someone and I just know that it must be Deceit. It’s like having a puzzle piece and not finding where it fits even if I know that it belongs.”

“Just because they love them, doesn’t mean that you have to.” Patton points out. It’s the only part of what Roman said that he really understood.

“And I don’t, because I don’t know who he is now, I just think I might know what he used to be,” Roman elaborates. “But I think I could. Love him, that is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> King/Deceit: ambiguously-romantic relationship, platonic love  
Remus & Deceit: they're family


	9. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is gory imagery in the form of Remus' thoughts and the description of a drawing. There is also mentioned self-harm.

The euphoria bubbling in his chest feels like it might spill out through his mouth at any moment, filling the room and submerging everyone in it in his stomach acid. There are butterflies in his stomach trying to eat their way through his intestines to escape. His jaw hurts from smiling, his smile always too wide, too sharp. Remus clings tighter to Virgil’s arm, tight enough that it might snap, it would be so easy for it to snap, and wouldn’t Virgil be so pretty with a broken arm? He would look like a doll! A broken arm and button eyes and a stitched smile- Remus can picture it in excruciating detail, and it would be oh so easy to make it a reality.

“Remus,” Deceit says, his tone so soft and full of affection that it makes him feel weak. Remus adores him, would kill for him, would even die for him. Roman might be his brother, but Deceit is his family, his light in the darkness, his everything. Deceit chose to be with him, to help him, and Deceit would never leave him. That can’t be said for anyone else. “What if you showed Thomas a drawing?”

A drawing? He could show Thomas a drawing? He lets go of Virgil’s arm so that he can clap his hands together, channelling the excitement through the way his body wiggles and shimmies. He has no idea what they’ve been talking about; had been too focused on having Virgil back. There were three days etched into his memory forever, three memories that haunted even his nightmares, and one of them were the day that Virgil left them for good. But now Virgil was back, and Remus would never be abandoned by him again. He knows exactly what drawing to show Thomas to express all his feelings.

The paper appears in his hand with a movement of his fingers that he has picked up from Deceit. There are spots of dried blood on the paper, from where he had bit his fingertips raw as he was drawing. There are dried spots of something on most of his drawings, and he doesn’t remember the source for most of them, but he remembers this one.

“It’s us!” He hands Deceit the drawing because he knows that Deceit would never ruin one of his creations. “You, and me, and Verge! As a happy family!”

He thinks Virgil flinches, and Deceit’s smile falters for a moment before he covers it back up, but he doesn’t know why they would react like that so he ignores it. Instead, he looks expectantly at Thomas as he looks over the drawing, still safely held by Deceit. It’s a good drawing; they’re all smiling and holding hands, although Virgil’s throat is slit and Deceit’s four other arms have been chopped off, and Remus’ eyes are gouged out. His drawings never remain family-friendly the way that Roman’s must, but Roman’s creativity is dull and boring.

His fingertips ache in phantom pain. Roman’s creativity is dull and boring, the way his own is only when he’s in pain. There are scars like thin silver lines all over his skin from where he has tried to create something resembling what Roman could do. He should copy his scars onto Roman’s skin, or he should remove Roman’s skin and wear it himself. Maybe then he could draw something without adding anything to make it violent or sexual or otherwise unsettling. Maybe then he could draw something that Thomas would like.

“It’s nice. Very realistic.” Thomas says, and Remus smiles as if it’s praise even though he can see how uncomfortable Thomas is. He had _tried_, Thomas just doesn’t know him enough to see that.

He never asked to be like this.

“Remus is very talented,” Deceit agrees. “Just look at the realism of the folds and shadows in the clothing.”

“His choice of colour is really good.” Virgil points out.

Yeah, Remus never asked to be like this, but maybe being like this isn’t that bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me if I need to add any warnings or update the tags.


	10. Pinned Down

They never solved Thomas’ problem of the day in the end, instead deciding to postpone it to later. It was likely the best decision, considering how things had changed. It would take a while for their new dynamics to settle, what with Virgil attempting to make amends, and Patton and Logan coming to terms with their memories having been altered. There are other things too, of course. Once King unfused, Deceit had to accept that his past had been revealed without his permission, and Roman was left to sort through memories and feelings of who Belief had been to them; to Remus, and to King. Truly, the only one unaffected seemed to have been Remus, who had thrived in the attention he got from Virgil and Thomas.

_Seemed_ being the key-word.

Roman wakes up in the middle of the night to a weight pinning him down to his bed. His first thought is that something has escaped the Imagination, but then his brother’s manic face comes into focus above him. He’s torn between what to do, doesn’t know if Remus is there to harm him or not. Should he call for help, summon his sword, or just wait? Is this the first time that Remus has been in his bedroom while he’s asleep? He doesn’t know, and that is frightening. He may have Remus’ memories now, but the lines between reality and hallucinations are blurred, and Roman doesn’t want to look at them too closely.

“Do you want to be King again, Roman?”

It’s not the question he had expected, and he doesn’t know how to answer. On one hand, he loves being who he is. On the other, being King is… he doesn’t know where to begin explaining it. Being King feels like being in the spotlight on a stage, like standing on a cliff overlooking a cheering crowd. He feels more imposing, more important. He feels like he can say anything and people will listen. It’s powerful and almost addicting, but it’s also dangerous. King would leave a trail of blood behind him if that’s what it took for Thomas’ to reach his dreams. King would act for the sake of acting, create for the sake of creating, without giving any thought to how it would impact the audience.

Roman wants the confidence, the pride, but he doesn’t want the disregard for others, doesn’t want the violent righteousness. He doesn’t know how to explain it to Remus, who still has him pinned down.

“Not for eternity. King might be good, but he’s not who Thomas needs. Thomas needs _us_.”

“Who said anything about Thomas?” Remus looks honestly confused. He even lets go, although he doesn’t move.

“Why else would we be King?” Roman asks and regrets the words as soon as he has said them. He knows why; knows who else Remus would want to fuse for. How could he not know, when Deceit has been on his mind the whole evening?

“I dare you to repeat that.” Remus says sweetly. His teeth look bloody, and his morningstar has appeared in his hand. Roman warily follows the way it moves.

“I would agree to be King for Belief, but I have no idea who Deceit is.”

“Then get to know him, _brother dearest_. I will grind your bones into powder if you break his heart.”

Roman doesn’t get a chance to reply to the threat; Remus sinks out of his room before he can even open his mouth. The morningstar remains, a reminder of Remus’ intentions.

He doesn’t get back to sleep.


	11. "Stay With Me"/Muffled Scream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompts for day 17 and 18 has been combined for one longer update.

Deceit lingers in Thomas’ living room after the others start to sink down. He feels strangely naked without the metaphorical shackles that he had worn for so long; he keeps massaging his wrists as if the skin had been rubbed raw. If he didn’t feel like he owed Thomas an explanation, he would already have escaped to the safety of his room. Lingering makes him feel vulnerable, especially once Remus leaves. Logan had been the first one to leave, Roman and Virgil were soon after each other, and then Remus had grown bored. Patton is still there, and Deceit feels his eyes on him.

He knows that he’ll have to confront Morality sooner or later, but he refuses to do so now. Once he has explained everything to Thomas, he will need to recover from having everything unravelled from underneath him. He doesn’t know how things will go with King, doesn’t know how much Roman knows, and he doesn’t know what to think of Virgil wanting to make amends. He’s torn between accepting his family member back with open arms and being guarded; unsure what Virgil wants to take from him now. With his past having been laid bare, Deceit has nothing left to give. Nothing, except his name; the only thing that no one knows. He keeps that knowledge close to his heart, stored next to the ugly truths that would ruin Thomas’ view of the world, and of himself.

Just as he starts to consider leaving and returning later, Patton sinks out. It takes him a moment to process that he has been left alone with Thomas; something the others definitely would not have allowed before. Had this been before, they would have kept a close eye on him, suspect him of wanting the worst for Thomas. They never did acknowledge that he’s more than his name, that he has always been Self-Preservation first and foremost. Harming Thomas intentionally goes against his very being; his core.

“Deceit?”

Thomas’ voice feels far away. He can’t pinpoint the direction that it’s coming from, is barely sure what he’s looking at. His eyes had rested on Patton’s little corner of the living room since Remus had left, but he hadn’t remained focused on the other once he got lost in thoughts. His thoughts keep drawing him in, making his surroundings drift out of focus. He should know what to do, has helped Virgil through this so many times, but he can’t remember any grounding techniques.

“Hey, stay with me, Deceit.” The voice is closer now, and he thinks the shape in front of him might be Thomas. He tries to will his eyes to focus, but they feel out of his control. Everything has been out of his control today.

He wonders what it would have been like if he had let the subconscious swallow him. The temptation had been strong then, and it was stronger now. Ceasing to exist sounds wonderful, now that Remus wouldn’t be left alone. Let someone else take over his responsibilities, now that he doesn’t have the role of villain to hide behind. Without King next to him, he can’t even play the role of the touch starved partner. If it had been a role, to begin with… he doesn’t know. Since King called him _Belief_, he has lost his footing, lost his sense of identity. It had been hard to let Belief go in favour of who he is now, but there had been a distance, had been a wall separating his identities. With the wall torn down, he wasn’t sure who to be, how to act.

With King, he can act as Belief. With Remus and Virgil, he can act as a family. With the others, he can no longer act as a villain, and he doesn’t quite know who he is without the role. It’s was what made them listen to him. Does he start over? Does he return to being Belief, or does he figure out who Deceit is?

Deceit blinks, and when he opens his eyes he’s looking up the ceiling. Hadn’t he been standing up just a moment ago? There’s ringing in his ears, an outdrawn muffled sound as if someone is screaming. He hears it as if he were underwater. Maybe he is; the ceiling seems to be moving. He’s not sure if he’s still in Thomas’ living room. He doesn’t think he is.

The screaming doesn’t stop, and his throat feels sore. He must be the one screaming, but he doesn’t know why. He’s not even sure if he’s laying down somewhere or if he’s floating. He can’t feel anything, almost like when he gave up his shape as Belief. Is that what’s happening? Why would he be screaming? How long has he been less than an idea?

Panic seeps in as he realises what’s happening. He doesn’t know how long he has before the subconscious claims him, doesn’t know how he sunk out or how he unravelled his shape. His mind is slipping from his grip, and he desperately tries to get control of it. Creating a new form takes so much more concentration than disappearing does.

The muffled screaming stops as his shape explodes outward, his very core burning as blisters cover every inch of newly-formed skin. The second time hurts more than the first had, and it’s worse because he hadn’t wanted this. At least he doesn’t think he had wanted this… He had been thinking about it, but he never had meant for it to happen, had he? He doesn’t know. He barely knows who he is. He’s pain and self-preservation and… and… belief? Lies? Deceit? Truth? He doesn’t know.

His new body falls to the floor, and he lets the exhaustion claim him.

Back in the living room, Thomas wonders if he should call one of the others. Deceit hadn’t been responding to him and had sunk out without a word once he moved in front of him. He can’t help but be worried about the snake-themed side.


	12. Asphyxiation

He wakes up feeling unable to breathe. There is an invisible pressure on his chest, and his mouth and throat feel dry. He tries to force air down his lungs, but the oxygen escapes him. His eyes are wet with panicked tears as his attempts at breathing veer into hyperventilation. His memories are fuzzy, and he can’t breathe, and he doesn’t know what room he is in. He’s on the floor, and he’s naked, and the room is spinning. He’s only depriving himself of oxygen by hyperventilating, but he can’t stop. His heart is beating like a drum against his ribcage, tears are running down his cheeks, and his hands are starting to feel numb.

A door is slammed open, and the sound bounces around the room. Someone is kneeling next to him, but all he can see is a black and purple shape. Clothes suddenly appear on his body; soft, warm clothes that don’t feel constricting. The person is carefully helping him sit up, letting him rest his back against their chest. He can feel the rhythm of their breathing, and he tries to slow his own breaths down to match it.

“I’m here for you, you’re doing great, Dee, just follow my breathing.”

The person’s voice is low and reassuring, and familiar. His breathing is slowing down as he listens to the person encouraging and praising him. He feels safe. It’s a nice, almost novelty feeling. As the last of the tenseness escapes him, he collapses against the person’s body.

“Dee?”

The worry shines through the question. He tilts his head up to blink blearily at the person. He knows who it is the moment that the face comes into focus.

“Hey, Virgil.”

His own voice is soft, with a raspy, almost hissing quality to it. He wets his lips, and his tongue is forked. It didn’t use to be, he thinks. He isn’t completely sure. Until he sees himself in a mirror, he has no idea what changes have been made. He knows that neither Deceit nor Belief fits him right, not now. Perhaps one of the names will fit him later, but for now, he thinks he’s someone else. Like… Untruth. Trick. A kinder synonym of who he used to be.

“What happened to you, Deceit? I could feel your panic from my room, and then I found you naked, looking different. What did you try to do?” Virgil’s questions sound stressed; as if he’s close to panic imagining different scenarios.

“Apparently you can begin to unravel during dissociative identity crises.” He says it with nonchalance, trying to cover up the truth with his attitude. Usually, he would have had a lie ready, but not right now. Not when he’s still finding himself in his new shape, not when he woke up unable to breathe not even ten minutes ago. “And Deceit, who’s she? I’m Untruth, or Trick if you prefer.”

“...okay.” He can hear the questions in Virgil’s tone and is thankful that they’re not getting voiced. “Trick it is. But I wouldn’t mind having Deceit back.”

“Give it time,” Untruth answers. “Deceit isn’t gone, but he’s a bad fit right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Belief became Deceit became Untruth/Trick became...


	13. Trembling

He hesitates only for a moment before wrapping his arms around De- _Trick_. It feels strange to be the one doing the comforting; it’s not really his area of expertise. He has always been tuned in to the others feelings of panic and fear, especially when he’s in his room, but he has never been this scared before. All other times, it’s something small that goes away on its own. This time had been like a giant exclamation point screaming for his attention, a blaring red signifying urgency. Of all the sides he had expected to find… Trick hadn’t even made the list. For Virgil, he had always been strong, capable, and dangerous. Seeing him after a panic attack… being allowed to comfort him… it cements the fact that he used to be Belief, and that Virgil had treated him horribly.

“Your thoughts are too loud.” Trick comments, his voice much raspier than it used to be. It’s the kind of voice fit to sing jazz. It could be hoarseness from the hyperventilation, but if it isn’t, then it fits him.

“There’s a lot to think about.” His answer would have been snappy and defensive in the past; now it’s just quiet, a bit unsure. He doesn’t know where they stand, doesn’t want to make assumptions about their relationship, so he doesn’t know how much he’s allowed to ask. There are so many questions, especially now, with Trick in his arms, looking not quite as Deceit did.

They sit on the floor in silence, Trick leaning against Virgil’s chest as Virgil hugs him. If there had been a clock in the room, they would have been able to hear the hands move. Actually… there isn’t anything in the room. In fact, Virgil has never seen it before. It was opposite Roman’s room, where the wall had used to be blank. It reminds him of when he moved back into this part of the mindscape; his room had not moved as much as it had been copied. Rooms didn’t move, or disappear, or do anything at all, in the other part. They just were.

“We’re not in our home, are we?” Trick asks. “It’s too clean for an empty room.”

_Our_. Virgil swallows; he tries to not react even though Trick had referred to the darker, mirror-version of this part as their home. His heart feels funny in his chest, but he pushes it aside.

“I think this room is meant for you,” he says instead. “If you want it.”

Trick starts to move, so Virgil drops his arm to his sides. He watches as the reborn side stands up, body trembling. Trick looks around warily, like a prey animal searching for predators. Virgil remains on the floor.

“What about Remus?” Trick asks at last.

“We can check if any other new rooms have appeared,” Virgil offers as he starts to stand up. “You should maybe conjure your own clothes first though.”

Trick stands shorter than Deceit used to, and the black set of sweats almost swallows him. There are blond highlights in his soft curls, and formerly solidly coloured scales are now iridescent. Virgil thinks he can spot freckles too. It’s a bit like if a Disney villain was redesigned to be a prince; the traits are there, but they’re no longer harsh to look at. Even the one reptilian eye is more golden than green.

“Yes, these are far too big.” Trick agrees. With a gesture of his hand, he’s dressed in a yellow dress with black lace designed to look like snakes, and a pair of black sneakers. His hands are left bare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone, please draw Untruth/Trick's new look.


	14. Laced Drink

Untruth gives the bare room one last look before pushing the door open. Even with Virgil’s confirmation, he wasn’t prepared for the sight of Roman’s door where he had subconsciously expected one of the nondescript doors he and Remus had. Glancing back, his - because the bare room is _his_, how strange is that - door is a familiar shade of yellow. If not for Virgil’s comforting presence behind him, it would have been just like it used to be after King split, when he was still Belief. He wonders if Virgil knows that this is where his room had been back then, too.

The sound of footsteps bounce through the hallway, and soon after Remus flings himself around a corner. There shouldn’t be a corner in a straight hallway, but reality has a tendency to bend to the two creativities will, and the mindscape barely counts as reality, to begin with. Untruth feels their shoulders relax at the sight; Remus didn’t seem worse. They couldn’t help but look at how full of life and manic energy Remus was now, and compare it to when they had first found him.

_Weeks of Creativity not moving from where Deceit had found him. Weeks of coaxing him into eating, and learning what Creativity would and wouldn’t eat. It broke his heart to have to feed Creativity food he would rather have thrown away, but Creativity refused to eat bread that wasn’t stale, or fruit that hadn’t started to go bad. It was hard enough to keep him from eating any kind of cleaning supplies. Deceit had to lace Creativity’s drinks with crushed up vitamins and read up on the nourishment values of bugs; anything to keep Creativity from wasting away._

Remus runs straight towards them, lifting them up and swinging them around. Arms that had once been nothing but skin and bones are now filled out with fat and muscles. Trick laughs as Remus continues to spin them.

“You’re wearing a dress! And you have freckles! And your own room!” Manic energy rolls of Remus’ in waves as he spins them round and round until everything else becomes a blur.

“I admire your observation skills, but I’m getting dizzy!” Trick yells, just for the sake of matching Remus’ energy. Scae feels bubbly in a way scae doesn’t remember feeling before.

“Sorry,” Remus beams and puts scale down. It takes a moment before everything stops spinning. “I couldn’t sleep so I mixed all the energy drinks and coffee and dayquil. It was disgusting and I feel like my skin is gonna buzz off, I love it!”

Virgil gives a low whistle, reminding them both that he’s still there.  
“I don’t want to be around to see that crash. Will you be okay taking care of him, Trick, or should I get someone to help?”

“Trick?” Remus repeats. He looks over scae, although he does so cross-eyed. The changes are more obvious now that they’re standing still; especially the height difference is quite clear.

“Or Untruth.” Trick answers. Scae’ll explain everything later, preferably after Remus’ has recovered from crashing.

“We should go Trick or Treating!”

“Maybe later, Remus. I had a question for you.”

“Roman is perfectly unharmed, I swear-”

“Uh,” Virgil interrupts. “I think I’m gonna. Breakfast. Yeah. That.” He salutes them awkwardly before heading towards the stairs. Trick has to thank him later.

“So, what did you want to ask, Trickbait?”

Scae groans playfully at the punny nickname before sobering up.  
“Did you get a room? I’m not going to live here without you.”

Remus takes a moment to look around the hallway, most likely counting the doors and acknowledging their colours, before answering.  
“Nope, no room! But I’ll just crash with Roman.”

“No, you won’t,” Roman opens his door to glare at his brother. Trick wonders how much he had heard, though he can’t have been up for long; his hair is dishevelled, and he’s still dressed in pyjamas. “You left your morningstar in my room after threatening me, why the fuck would I let you sleep with me?”

Remus grimaces.  
“I don’t want to _sleep with_ you, just maybe skin you alive.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!” Roman complains and turns towards scale instead. “Deceit, how do you- _uh_. Dress. Cute. Gay. I meant _bye_!”

Roman flees into his room, the door slamming closed behind him. Trick just blinks, confused. What did just happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it was unclear, the chapter started with Untruth using he/him pronouns, slowly going over to they/them pronouns, then preferring to use Trick instead of Untruth, and lastly, Trick using nounself pronouns: scae/scale/scales/scaleself.


	15. Hallucination

Roman leans on the closed door, his body sliding against the wood until he ends up sitting on the floor. His cheeks are still flushed; the image of Deceit in a dress burned into his mind. There had been so much bare skin! He didn’t know that Deceit had patches of scales along one side of his body; or freckles. Roman’s heart beats frantically in his chest as he acknowledges how much of a gay mess he is.

For all that he might embody the idealisation of romance, Roman also knows that he belongs strongly on the aromantic spectrum. He feels good labelling himself greyromantic; it just makes it all the more special when he feels romantically attracted to someone. He just had never expected that person to be Deceit.

Except… Deceit is taller, isn’t he? Taller, and with more of a green tint than gold to the scales and eye. The Deceit he thought he had seen in the hallway had looked so much… _softer_ than the Deceit he had seen yesterday. Roman looks down on his lap as the doubts continue to make themselves known. He hadn’t been able to sleep because of Remus, and he usually tries to get a solid eight hours of beauty sleep. Is one day enough to hallucinate from sleep deprivation? Or had Remus conjured someone to prank him? ...but why would his brother have conjured someone that looked so much like Deceit, yet not at the same time?

His thoughts are a muddled mess as he gets more and more convinced that what he had seen had been nothing but a hallucination, someone not real. Tears drip down his cheeks. It had been too good to be true, of course it had, why would he ever find someone to love and be loved by like they do in fairytales? Oh, he still loves Patton, Logan, Virgil, and Thomas platonically, but he craves the thrill of romantic love. Craves to feel something remotely close to what King felt towards Belief.

Roman loses track of time, sitting on his bedroom floor, crying. It’s not just the disappointment of having hallucinated a love interest; it’s a lot of little things that have built up over time. The insecurity brought up by Remus’ existence, the feeling as if he’s not enough. The regret of Thomas not going to the callback, the guilt of knowing that he had made that choice just to not side with Deceit. The shame of having judged Virgil and Deceit based on appearance, without attempting to get to know them. The fear that he isn’t good enough. The fear that he’ll be forgotten.

He feels the door move behind him, accompanied by the sound of knuckles hitting wood. Someone is knocking on his door. Roman swallows the rising anxiety; he doesn’t want anyone to know that he has been crying. It doesn’t take much to switch his clothes to a pair of red jeans, a black t-shirt, and a white and red letterman jacket. He doesn’t have time to fix his hair by hand, so he uses a bit of magic to get that looking respectable as well. The knocking hasn’t stopped by the time he stands up, a fake smile on his face as he turns the door handle.

“Virgil?” Confusion bleeds into his tone. It isn’t like Virgil to willingly seek him out in his room; usually, Patton is the only one to come knocking. Remus will just show up, and Logan likes to plan it out beforehand or send a text asking if he has time before coming over. Virgil and Deceit both keep to the common areas, being of the opinion that rooms are too personal; especially considering their rooms can affect how they feel if they stay in any for too long.

“Hey, Princey. There is someone you should meet if you wanna head down to the living room.”

“Meet?” Roman repeats the one word that stuck out to him. Doesn’t he know everyone already? Has there been someone hiding over in the dark, or did someone split? Worry fills his stomach; he really hopes it isn’t the latter. Splitting was not a pleasant experience in any way.

“It’s easier if you see for yourself.” Virgil shrugs and starts walking towards the stairs. Roman follows, wondering if it would be too much to summon his sword. He doesn’t feel good about this.


	16. Bleeding Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title have so little to do with the actual chapter, but that was the prompt so.

When they enter the living room, everyone is sitting on the sofa except for Remus and… Roman stops. Hadn’t the Deceit look-a-like been a hallucination? Where was Deceit? What was going on?

“Shouldn’t Thomas be here?” Virgil asks. Roman blinks; he’s still confused, but if he joins the others on the sofa he’ll probably get some answers.

“Thomas is currently out filming a short video with his friends, and you said that this couldn’t wait.” Logan is the one to answer.

“It’s okay,” the Deceit look-a-like reassures. “I need to explain some things to him as is, one more is not a big deal.”

Both Remus and Virgil shoot him unimpressed looks, Roman notes. He takes his place next to Patton. Virgil hesitates for a moment before sitting down on the arm of the sofa.

“So, Deceit!” Patton speaks up with a smile. “What is this about?”

Deceit? But… Deceit doesn’t look like that? Roman looks between the two, his brow furrowed. He’s missing something, and he doesn’t know what.

“Don’t call me that.” The look-a-like grimaces. “Deceit was completely different from Belief, but I’m not. I’m somewhere in between them both, so don’t use his name for me.”

“But you don’t want to be referred to as Belief either.” Logan states.

“Neither is the core of my function, and I need to find a balance between the two. Until then, I’d prefer to be called Trick, although Untruth is also acceptable.”

“Wait,” Roman interrupts. “Why do you look so different?”

Trick smiles. It’s a thin, cold smile, and while it would have been off-putting in the past, Roman just gets the feeling that he’s uncomfortable.  
“Belief and Deceit also looked quite different, Roman. Shouldn’t shapeshifting be one of your talents?”

“But that isn’t shapeshifting. That’s something else.” he insisted. He should know; shapeshifting was indeed one of his talents.

“My form unravelled,” Trick hisses. “Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now?”

No, he isn’t. He can’t imagine what unravelling or creating a new body feels like; has no idea if it can be compared to how he and Remus felt in the split. He didn’t even know that it was possible; no one else has completely changed their shape like that.

“I’m sorry.” Roman lowers his gaze. He shouldn’t have pressured Trick into answering.

“Can we get to the part where I get to threaten everyone?” Remus asks. He has his morningstar in hand; Roman hadn’t noticed. Remus usually moves a lot more than this, but he seems almost asleep on his feet.

“Go ahead.”

“If any of you disrespect Trick’s pronouns, I’ll beat you with my morningstar until your form is unrecognizable and you’re bleeding out on the floor!” Remus smiles brightly and waves his morningstar in their direction. Roman swallows; the morningstar _hurts_.

“I use nounself pronouns,” Trick explains. His- their- _Trick_’s voice is quieter, and he- they- ugh, _Trick_ won’t meet any of their eyes. “Scae/scale/scales/scaleself.”

“Thank you for telling us. Roman, Patton, Virgil, I can write up example sentences for you if you need,” Logan says. “While on the topic, I would like you to use they/them pronouns for me in the future.”

“Sure thing, Specs.” Virgil answers. “I’m gonna be in my room if anyone needs me.” With those words, he sinks out instead of actually walking back.

“I think I could use some practice sentences,” Patton admits. “Can we go do that now?”

“That would be adequate.” Logan stands up from the sofa. “Shall we head to the library then?”

“You have a library?” Remus exclaims. “Can I come? Are there books on human anatomy? Any with illustrations?”

“I’m sure we can find something.” Logan promises. They leave with Patton and Remus, leaving only Roman and Trick in the living room.

Roman glances at Trick, trying to figure out something to say, but they’re alone now and Trick is still wearing a dress. He feels his cheeks heat up and looks away. Oh, this is complicated. Scae is very cute, and Roman is suddenly very gay; except Trick is already with King, isn’t scae?


	17. Secret Injury + Humiliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's lots of focus on what makes up a body.

Scae hasn’t gotten a moment to scaleself since scae woke up, and it’s starting to take its toll on scale. It was okay at first when scae rested against Virgil, but then scale had to look after Remus until he finally crashed from the mixture of coffee, energy drinks and dayquil. Gathering everyone to give them a basic rundown of what had happened had taken the last out of scale. Willpower only lasts for so long, and while scales body may look fine from the outside… well, deceiving others had always been scales strong suit.

Trick clenches scales teeth as scae struggles to not show any signs of weakness. If only Roman would leave before scae can’t hold it together any longer and collapses! Scae doesn’t need the humiliation on top of everything; it was awful enough that Roman pressured scae into revealing exactly why scae had a new shape. Scales patience is wearing thin, and scae knows that scales injuries will only remain internal for so long. Oh, scae loved Remus, but an incomplete body could only take so much.

If someone opened scale up, scae would look like an anatomy doll; scae had a skeleton and organs, but there weren’t any nerves; there weren’t any fat or muscles. The circulatory system only flowed through scales organs, leaving scales limbs cold and heavy. In short, scales body was little more than a pretty shell; scales concentration had been slipping too much when scae created the new body. Lacking the internal support, was it any wonder that scales ribs had pierced through scales lungs? It would have been fine if not for Remus’ antics, but now scae is barely standing upright.

Scales skin feels sticky, not from sweat, but some sort of thick fluid. Scae looked down to see red spread through the yellow fabric of scales dress. _Blood_. The broken ribs must have pierced through the shell of scales skin since there wasn’t any muscles or fat to keep the broken bones from moving outwards. Scae coughs and more blood comes up through scales mouth.

“Trick!” Roman looks shaken, his skin shades paler due to worry. His hands come up uselessly as he reaches for scale, unsure what he can do to help.

“Really didn’t want you to see me like this.” Scae smiles, but it doesn’t last very long. Not having a nerve system means not feeling the pain, so scae doesn’t know how bad it is. Scae only knows that scae’s bleeding out.

“Me specifically, or anyone?” Roman asks. His eyes are transfixed on the spreading blood; scae assumes the question is just a way for him to keep his thoughts from spiralling.

“Does it matter?” Scae laughs, but it quickly turns into a coughing fit. Scales lungs must be filling with blood as they speak. Scae would do something about it, but scae doesn’t know _what_.

“Let me help,” Roman begs. “Tell me what’s wrong so that I can fix it.”

Scae has a scathing reply ready, unwilling to show even more weakness by accepting help, but scae has to swallows it down as blood runs down scales chin. The blood is coming out through the wound, rushing up scales throat, and filling up the empty shell that is scales body. Scae can’t die, but it also means that scales hearts will continue to pump out blood. Unless something is done, scae will be little more than a fountain of blood on the living room floor.

“Unravelling was so easy. It didn’t need any thought; I wasn’t aware that I had done it until it was almost too late.” Scae pauses to empty scales mouth of blood. It isn’t pretty. Talking through the blood is awful, but scae has to explain if scae wants help. It hurts scales pride to ask for help, but feeling humiliated by scales weakness is preferable to what might happen otherwise. “Creating a body takes a lot of concentration, and I rushed it. The inner makings were less important than the outward presentation.”

Roman nods, probably turning scales words over until they make sense to him. He stands up from the sofa, hands glowing with creative power. In any other situation, the sight would have been breathtaking.

“I need to touch you and channel my powers through your body to right out the wrongs.” Roman explains. His jaw is set with forced calmness, as expected of royalty facing an unusual predicament. Trick is almost overwhelmed by the determination in his gaze.

“I trust you.”

Three simple words. The honesty tastes bittersweet in scales mouth, a harsh contrast to the iron flavour of scales blood. Roman looks over scale, probably searching for any sign of a lie. His shoulders sag with relief when he finds nothing. A single step is all it takes for Roman to step close and put his glowing hands on Trick - one on scales cheek, another over the wound.

The living room lights up with the golden power of creativity. Trick feels like scales body is filled with warmth; the nurturing, healing warmth of someone that loves scale. It would take scales breath away if scae could breathe. The abundance of blood gets redirected into veins and blood vessels as scales circulatory system spreads like threads through scales body.

“You have two hearts,” Roman breathes out; the words not much more than a whisper full of astoundment. He weaves muscles, tendons and nerves together through Trick’s body, keeping the healed bones and organs in place. “Two different circulatory systems.”

“I need both,” scae is quick to mention. It wouldn’t do for Roman to change that. “One warm-blooded, one cold-blooded.”

“You’re beautiful inside out.”

Fat is the last thing to fill out the still empty spaces in Trick’s body. Scae sags against Roman; no energy remaining after moving on pure willpower for so long. Scae had barely heard what Roman had said - something about beauty? Being able to soak up some of Roman’s warmth matters more than what he had said; scales warm-blooded heart is just big enough to keep scae from being sluggish. Without any outside warmth, scae runs constantly cold and any change in temperature immediately affects scale.

It might just add on to the weakness and humiliation that scae has felt, but Trick nuzzles scales head against Roman. Scae wants nothing more than sleep, and Roman is warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to start thinking about how this will end because there aren't that much left of October. Only 6 more prompts.
> 
> The end of whumptober doesn't mean that I'm done with this AU though. I didn't originally plan for this to actually follow a story-line instead of being mostly un-related drabbles set in this universe, but I'm having lots of fun with it.
> 
> Reminder that I'm always willing to talk over on tumblr!


	18. Abandoned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, this isn't abandoned. I fully intend to finish the whumptober prompts.

Remus loves Trick and Virgil, and he thinks he would describe his feelings for Roman as love as well except that love is an overwhelming need to have Roman completely to himself, either alive or dead. He adores Thomas, because how could he not, but he wouldn’t kill for Thomas the way he would for Trick or Virgil. He dislikes Patton since Patton ripped him and Roman apart and then threw Remus away. It would be very satisfying to lock Patton in a dark, empty room and see how he liked it except Morality wouldn’t be able to conjure every single thought as Remus had unconsciously done for years. Actually, torturing Patton would probably be more satisfying, but Remus has no interest in being the bad guy. He just wants his family to be happy.

Logan though. Remus likes Logan. They allowed him into their library and showed him books on human anatomy and even found one with lots of fun illustrations for him. So yes, Remus likes Logan. Still, he could only sit still with a book for so long before he needs to move.

He takes the book with him as he leaves the library. Maybe he should add some blood to the illustrations! Blood and glitter, so that they would be realistic and pretty. He could use intestines to bookmark all the interesting pages! Remus hums to himself, the book hugged against his chest tight enough to bruise. He has to show Trick the book first, but then he can go to his room and add to it. Or rather, _Roman_’s room. The thought makes him giggle. He couldn’t wait to watch Roman as he slept!

But then he enters the living room to see if Trick is still there and his smile falls.

“You’re beautiful inside out.” Roman says, Trick held in his arms.

Remus feels as if his blood has started to boil, and he hugs the book even harder - the sharp edges cutting into his arms. Trick is _his_, and Roman is _his_ \- and they’re both much better than _him_. Is that it? He isn’t good enough for them so they abandoned him for each other? Of course, he isn’t good enough, he was never good enough- but Trick loves him. Trick is _family_. Or had that all been lies? No- Trick wouldn’t lie to him.

There are angry tears leaving burning marks on his cheeks. Trick hadn’t liked Roman before, so why would scae be so comfortable with his brother now? Had Roman done something? Wasn’t it enough that Roman had Patton, and Logan, and had even had Virgil - did he need to take Trick too? Was Remus not allowed to have anything of his own?

The book falls to the floor as the familiar weight of his morningstar appears in his hand. Remus refuses to be abandoned ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me @ loveceit on tumblr.


End file.
